


si vi amari, ama

by ivelostmyspectacles



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Hair Braiding, Healer Ardyn Izunia, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 08:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15968870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/ivelostmyspectacles
Summary: “What are you doing now, Majesty?”“Braiding your hair, my love.”"Braiding my... you should rest, Ardyn.”"Iamresting, Gilg."





	si vi amari, ama

The movement at his back draws him to wakefulness. The press of the armory is awaiting him, ready to supply should he need anything. The blade that doesn’t leave his side is propped against the wall next to the bed. He doesn’t need to be fully awake to process the situation, and quickly he determines that there is no danger in the room. The only presence near is the one meant to be in his charge.

“Ardyn,” he mumbles. His back is to him and he doesn’t turn, but the movement behind him is unmistakable. A gauge of if the king is aware or not, latent worries of if the nightmares have returned. But Ardyn responds, sounding cognizant if not groggy.

“Gilga.”

Gilgamesh lets himself relax, if only just. Perhaps his king is awake, and sounding content, but that means very little when it involves Ardyn Izunia. “What is happening?”

“The sun is rising, the birds are singing.” Gilgamesh arches an eyebrow, and Ardyn huffs a laugh, warm and comforting, against his bare shoulder. “Very well, so the birds don’t sing _yet.”_

“It is early,” Gilgamesh rumbles. He doesn’t need to locate the sun to tell; his internal clock has long since acclimated to Ardyn’s sleep and wake schedule. They are in sync, as is expected from the king of Lucis and his Shield.

“’tis,” Ardyn murmurs, and kisses, open-mouthed, at his shoulder.

It is before he can even prepare to roll over for a morning frig that Ardyn withdraws, a calloused hand curved firmly against his shoulder. “No, go back to sleep.”

Gilgamesh raises his head a fraction, eyes flickering towards the space behind him. “Are you well?”

Ardyn laughs. His fingers begin to fiddle with Gilgamesh’s hair. “Quite amused you think me _unwell_ for not wanting your prick.”

“You generally want my prick,” Gilgamesh says, dry, and rests his head back on the pillow.

“It is such a handsome thing,” Ardyn says, and sounds wistful, perhaps. His hands are moving more deftly through his hair, parting and sweeping it over his shoulder. “Alas, relaxation would not be amiss now and again.”

Gilgamesh hums. It’s not untrue. Ardyn has been to three villages in two days, each time calling the scourge into his body. The tax it places upon him is apparent in the hours that follow, extra sleep needed to recover. But he always bounces back, awake before Gilgamesh a morning or two after.

Not to say Gilgamesh doesn’t worry about him. He does. Tirelessly.

Ardyn’s hands have taken on a distinctively intent motion, and Gilgamesh forces his eyes open again. It’s still far too dark to see Ardyn’s shadow on the wall, so he guesses, bases off of motion he can feel if not see. Repeated, twining. Gilgamesh blinks owlishly, and opens his mouth to inquire. “What are you doing now, Majesty?”

“Braiding your hair, my love.”

“Braiding my…” He sighs. There is little use to argue, or even comment; Ardyn is tenacious when he wants to be and, at this time in the morning, Gilgamesh _doesn’t_ wish to be. As if he’ll argue his king’s desires, in any regard. “You should rest, Ardyn,” he says instead, but tilts his head to allow him further access to his hair.

“I _am_ resting, Gilg.”

Perhaps it is not quite the kind of resting the king should be doing, but Gilgamesh doesn’t argue. Again, what place of it is his. And the motions of Ardyn’s fingers, nimble but ever gentle, is helping to lull him back to sleep, anyway.

He doesn’t know quite when he drifts off, but the next time he awakens, Ardyn is awake and out of bed, dressed with his hair tied back and leaning in interest over the table. As Gilgamesh watches, a strand of burgundy falls into his face and Ardyn seems to tuck it behind his ear without thought. There is a pint of what is probably ale sat nearby, and Gilgamesh doesn’t have to guess what he’s poring over.

“Where will we be headed next?” he asks, easing himself to his feet.

He’s weary, bones aching in ways he doesn’t have right to complain about. Ardyn has it far worse. But now there’s a pressure unfamiliar at his back, settled low along his spine, and when Gilgamesh turns his head, he recognizes that Ardyn has indeed braided his hair while he’d slumbered. It’s messy, as expected; his hair is far too long to do anything asides tie it off, but the braid serves its purpose. It’s a heavy weight against his back, and Gilgamesh strokes his fingers along the plait idly.

“Ah, we’ve the outlying villages here first. I’ve heard several farmers had taken ill and I should examine them for the scourge.” Ardyn leans back, and turns to smile at him. “I was just perusing in the meantime, Gilg.”

Gilgamesh grunts, reaching past to take the yet untouched second pint from the tabletop. It’s far too early to speak of the starscourge, although he passes off the distaste as loathing being awake so early.

“There’s not much by way of breakfast, I’m afraid. They’ve given us their best– I hate to take it from them, but they absolutely wouldn’t take no for an answer…”

He hears the frown in Ardyn’s voice, and lightly nudges his shoulder. “Selfless as though the king must be, he requires sustenance of his own.”

“I’d gladly go without.”

“A fact of which I’m certain they are aware.” He sits down the drink and turns to gather his clothes, scattered haphazard from their late arrival to the residence last night.

“Oh, the braid does look nice!” Ardyn says, and the fact that it takes his mind off of the starscourge, if only briefly, is victory in itself.

Gilgamesh glances over his shoulder, and arches a singular eyebrow. _“You_ were the mastermind behind it, I’ll recall.”

“Yes, but you were sort of… sleeping on it,” Ardyn says, miming the action. “I wasn’t certain how it turned out.”

Gilgamesh turns his head purely for the benefit of presenting it, and feeling the weight of it shift along his bare back. With their impending travel, a proper bath will likely not be forthcoming and the plait may yet prevent most of the dirt and grime from collecting. As well as the efficiency of it. Yes, he decides, he likes the braid as well. No, it is not only because it serves to make his king smile ever so fondly at him.

“It’s appreciated,” he remarks, and pulls his shirt over his head.

Ardyn laughs, and rises from the chair to help him dress. His actions are tender as he plucks at laces and pulls at fabric, as he settles the newly acquired braid over Gilgamesh’s shirt and traveling coat. “Perfect!” he exclaims, and, somehow, Gilgamesh prevents himself from rolling his eyes.

He is pleased, too, and he wonders if he hides it.

“Shall we, then?” Ardyn asks brightly, and Gilgamesh pretends he doesn’t see the exhaustion lingering at the corners of his eyes and the faintest of blacks staining just above Ardyn’s cuffs from where the healing is taking its toll. Ardyn is still _Ardyn,_ his founder king, _infuriating_ and kindhearted in turns.

The king in question gives a quick tug on Gilgamesh’s braid when he doesn’t reply immediately. “Hello! Eos to Gilga!”

Gilgamesh grumbles a noise of protest– faint, without true complaint– and steps forward. “I’m ready when you are, Your Majesty,” and leads the way from their room.

**Author's Note:**

> I was replaying Episode Gladio while trying to navigate my busted main game save files, and again shrieking at my friend masozii the possibility and or likelihood of how hot Gilga is, so of course we were talking about Gilgardyn, _so of course we were talking about tender Ardyn braiding that long, long hair_
> 
> __will I ever stop writing hair braiding fics? nah. would i pay money for a hot Gilga in Ardyn's DLC or even more fanart of this ship. yah :3c


End file.
